


Every Valve To Your Bleeding Heart

by thehumdrumlife



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:18:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehumdrumlife/pseuds/thehumdrumlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set sometime in the period 1850-1900 in New York where Louis, Niall and Liam are paperboys struggling to get by. Everything changes when they meet two boys from a very different part of town and they all realise they have more in common than they first thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Niall had had a busy morning, as he did almost every other morning of his life, but today had been different. Everyone wanted a newspaper today after the huge fire that had devoured part of the city the night before and he was happy to sell them. Walking around the streets shouting out the words printed in large letters on the bundle he was carrying had tired his voice and body. By midday he had one paper left, a bundle of change in his pocket, and a long walk home. He had managed to earn enough money that he wouldn't have to work for a few days if he didn't want to. But he always missed the job when he was away from it and hated for the others to ever sell more than him. He was good at his occupation, had been since he started it at age 9. There was something about his bright eyes and loud laugh that endeared people to him and made them want to give him their money and even sometimes purposely find him to buy their morning or evening news and it was rare that he was abused for his Irishness on the streets anymore. 

Life was good, Niall thought as he headed for home, smiling at the thought of his lunch and maybe a nap before the afternoon came. He hoped the others would be home, having sold their stack of papers as quickly as he had. His face fell into a tiny frown as he thought of the teasing he would get from Louis who had no doubt sold more than he or Liam put together, as he always did. If Niall was good at his job, Louis was born to do it. It was almost an art, Liam had remarked once, the way Louis managed to sway anyone passing him into purchasing a newspaper. Niall had sometimes gone with him to the streets he worked on, when it was a slow day or he hadn't needed to work, and he was always completely amased by how Louis paper's flew out of his arms as he practically leaped up and down the street, smiling into the faces of every passerby and ensuring them that the news of the day was the most important thing to happen in the whole of New York for at least 10 years. He was legendary among every newsboy in the city and most felt a mixture of respect and jealous hatred towards him. Louis gave the impression of never having to work very hard for anything in his life and Niall suspected that he and Liam were the only ones who knew the truth. 

Niall reached the house he had been calling home for the past two years and smiled up at the little old building, sandwiched between a bakery, owned by an old woman with very bad eyesight that Niall and his friends had used to their advantage the few occasions when times had been tough enough to warrant it, and a large abandoned building that had once been a tavern and now housed rats and drunks on cold nights. Niall and Louis had lived in a little apartment on the very top floor of the building since they had befriended each other two years previously and decided they'd like somewhere indoors to sleep during the harsh New York winters. 

Not long after they had moved in there was a slow month for news and not even their combined talent could earn them enough money to keep them in rent and walking home from their favourite tavern one night they had come across Liam sleeping just inside the door of their drafty building and they had invited him to spend the night in their relatively warm apartment. After Liam had told them his story of losing his grandmother, his last living relative, to a fever a few months previously, he had been taking what he could and attempting to find a dry place to sleep most nights. Liam had looked so ashamed when he admitted to them that he had been stealing to stay alive that Louis and Niall had taken instant pity on the mild mannered boy and the next day began to show him the ropes of being a newsboy and after ensuring that he was good enough at the trade to make a living, invited him to stay with them permanently under the very real pretence that they needed another person to share the rent. Liam had been so grateful that tears had sprung to his eyes and Niall still smiled at the memory of the fierce hug the three of them had shared. Since then the three boys had become each other's family and Niall was grateful for their little unit every day.

Bounding up the stairs and bursting through the door, as per his usual entrance, he was greeted with the scent of stew which Liam was stirring over the fire blazing in their tiny fireplace.

"I'm ho-oome!" Niall greeted them in a high pitched voice, splaying his arms wide on either side of him.

"We can see that." deadpanned Louis from his position curled up on their lone armchair which they had found abandoned just outside their door and decided it was good enough to keep.

Niall threw his remaining paper at him in response and wandered over to where Liam was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed staring into the fire and absently moving the spoon around in the pot. He was just about to steal the spoon off an unsuspecting Liam and sneak a quick taste of the food when his rumbling stomach gave him away just as he reached out for the handle.

"Oi!" Liam shouted in surprise, gripping the spoon a little firmer than he had been and batting Niall away with his free hand as Louis laughed and Niall grimaced. 

"How much longer will it be?" he asked, a slight whine entering his voice. "I've been out providing for this family and you can't even have the dinner ready for the man of the house when he returns from a long stressful day? It's an outrage!" 

"Actually we've all been providing for the family, some of us just aren't terrible at our jobs and take half the day to come home." replied Louis, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth as he tried to level Niall with a serious look. Niall stuck his tongue out at him in response and Louis gripped his chest in mock horror as they both dissolved into laughter.  
"What are you two laughing about?" asked Liam, turning his head to look at both of them fondly. 

"Nothing, dear." said Niall, grinning at his friend and flopping down on the mattress nearest to the fire. "Just wake me when the food is ready."

One of Niall's best talents in life was his ability to sleep at anytime and anywhere. It had been a blessing when he was sleeping rough and when he and Louis had moved in together it has caused a few incidents of panic when Louis thought he had passed out. Niall still liked to tease him about that from time to time but sometimes trying to tease Louis Tomlinson was like trying to help a drowning person by stepping on their head.

About half an hour later Niall was woken by something tickling at his nose. He opened his eyes to find Louis' face hovering about a half inch from his own with a feather poised just over his victim's nose. Niall's eye went wide and he gave a yelp of surprise as Louis rolled off of him and onto the floor, laughing so hard that Niall couldn't help but join him after he got over his initial shock. Over by the table Liam was also bent over clutching at his sides as laughter rolled out of him.

"Very funny, Lou Lou" Niall said after their laughter had subsided.

"You're welcome." replied Louis, grinning and bounding to his feet. 

Niall took the hand the other boy offered him and allowed himself to be taken in an affectionate headlock and dragged to the table where Liam was beginning to shovel his food into his mouth. Niall and Louis took their places at the table with small smiles still playing across their features and Louis followed Liam's suit instantly and began to devour the plate of food in front of him. From Niall's place at the table there came the quiet noise of the boy whispering to himself. Liam looked up for half a second and instantly returned to his food, not wanting to disturb the other boy. Niall had his hands clasped together in front of him, his head bowed as he said the small prayer to himself as he did every day before eating. It was one of very few things that neither of the other boys ever teased him about, and Niall was overwhelmingly grateful to them for that. After his family had died and he had moved away from the other Irish families they had lived amongst, he felt like it was his last connection to the traditions he had been raised with. 

After they had cleared away and decided to meet back at the apartment after they had finished work they headed to the printing press to collect the evening newspapers, buying as many as they thought they could sell. Louis, as usual, staggering away with a large pile and cocky look on his face as the boys around him glared and Niall shot him a grin before collecting his pile of slightly less, deciding that he wasn't going to work too hard for the afternoon and save his energy for the night Louis, Liam and himself were planning. He couldn't help but feel himself walk a little lighter on his feet thinking of the night ahead.

~  
Louis had decided to take a few different streets, his justification being to challenge himself. But mostly he was curious about the part of town that had been the top story of their papers all day. Louis had rarely come here when it had still been standing but he knew it just as well as every other part of his city. 

The damage almost took his breath away. This part of town was not where him or anyone he knew had lived. It was a rich area, most of the houses occupied by wealthy politicians or English high society in search of good investment opportunities. One such investment opportunity had been the gun powder factory just across the road from where Louis was standing. The factory had been the problem really, Louis had read this morning. After it had caught, the resulting blast had completely demolished two entire streets. The streets that had been tall and proud were now completely reduced to rubble. 

Already the debris was being removed by tired looking men despite the fact that some of it was still smoldering. Louis wondered what had happened to the surviving pervious occupants. He couldn’t even hold on to his usual dislike for the upper class in the face of such a tragedy. He knew more than most what it was like to be without a home.  
Feeling emotion rising in his throat which he quickly quelled, Louis decided that he would return to the streets he usually haunted on his afternoon sale. He found he couldn’t look at the sad, smoking remains of the once impressive buildings. 

Once he had reached his destination he forced himself to forget what he had seen and focus on the task at hand. He transformed almost instantly, his posture straightening and his face brightening. People turned to look at him as he called out the afternoon headline for the first time. He caught the eye of everyone looking in turn and grinned widely, jogging over to where the nearest spectator stood with a practiced look of urgency spreading across his features. 

“Have you heard the news?” he exclaimed loudly so anyone within a mile could hear him. 

“What news?” asked the man Louis was looking up at. He had a thick accent and an even thicker scent of sweat and whiskey clinging to him. 

“Well if I told you I’d be out of a job, wouldn’t I?” said Louis, putting on his best smile that he knew made his eyes sparkle slightly and had gotten him out of a lot of tricky situations in the past.

The drunk man looked confused for a moment, as if he couldn’t remember where he was, or even who he was. But when his gaze flicked back to the boy smiling earnestly at him, his eyes seemed a little less clouded and he handed Louis a coin which produced such a huge, genuine seeming smile from the boy that the drunk couldn’t help but smile back as Louis handed him his paper. Louis knew exactly how the scene looked to watching bystanders, had always known how to pull at people’s heartstrings, how to play up to them, get them to love him and, sometimes, hate him. Niall had told him once that he could be an actor and it was one of the little comments he like to keep tucked away with him for when he felt on the verge of getting lost in his own dark thoughts. 

After the incident with the kindly drunk, a few of the people watching had come to Louis to purchase their paper and he had treated them with the same gratitude he always managed to scrape up, treating them as if they had just saved him from sure death and smiling until his cheeks ached. After walking up and down his usual streets a few times, making his steps look as light as he could while simultaneously balancing his bundle in one arm, the sky began to turn to that comforting red/orange colour that Louis loved so much. It meant the end of the day and, even though the evening autumn chill should say otherwise, Louis felt warmth inside him. A genuine smile, perhaps the first one since the afternoon had started, lit up his face. 

Suddenly feeling a longing to be home, Louis sold his last few papers and began to head home. He was distracted by the thought of seeing his friends again, even if it had only been a few hours since he had last spoke to them. Sometimes he couldn’t even explain what he felt for their little family-like friendship. It had gotten him through so much and the three of them relied on each other to an alarming extent at times. None of them could function properly any longer without the support the other two provided. Whenever Louis thought about it, his mind always went back to the memory of when Niall had gone for a few days to stay with his cousins after their father had died. It had been among one of the worst weeks that Louis could remember since the three of them had become the three of them. Everything had been quieter, strange. He had felt like Liam and he were tiptoeing around shadows of their usual selves, clutching each other tightly as they fell asleep, as if they could fall apart at any moment. 

When Niall had come home he had looked drained and pale and Louis and Liam hugged him so tightly that he had been forced to laughingly push them off to get his breath back. They never spoke about it but after that none of them had ever left for more than a day at a time. On his very bad days, Louis sometimes wondered if they actually were happy, but on most days he knew they were. They just needed each other, and that’s how it was, none of them had ever considered changing it, and Louis hoped they never would.  
~  


Returning home before Niall and Liam, as usual, Louis poked at the remaining embers of the fire they had lit earlier and curled up in the armchair. Having already finished reading the lone newspaper, Louis surveyed the tiny apartment. It was something he liked to do from time to time. He couldn’t help but feel his pride bubbling to the surface every time he thought of it. He was prouder of their little home than he was of most other things in his life, and rightfully so, he thought. It wasn’t often that three orphaned newsboys lived in such fine lodgings. Their tiny main room consisted of a fireplace taking up most of one wall, in front of which sat an old and worn but comfortable and probably too large couch that they had saved all their extra earnings for weeks to buy from the old woman next door. Not long after the couch had become part of their little lives the armchair had been found and Louis had instantly claimed it as his and so it remained to this day. Most of the other furniture had been there when they had arrived, including the table that sat in the corner surrounded by three old chairs whose legs never seemed to be all the same length, and two of the three straw mattresses that now lay scattered around the room, ready to be pushed together in front of the fire when the time for sleeping came. There was also a door on the wall behind the couch that led to a sleeping closet big enough for one person but the cold windowless room had never appealed to any of them, whenever they discussed it they all claimed fear of small spaces but Louis suspected that the other boys reasons were similar to his own; fear of being alone. 

The rest of the room was scattered with blankets, plates and cups that every once in a while one of them would attempt to tidy but Louis liked it the way it was. How every inch of the place looked like theirs. Even the window the window that looked on to the less than appealing patch of ground at the back of the building, brought a smile to Louis’ face. It’s sill was home to anything important to them that they had managed to keep including a beautiful small wooden bow that had belonged to Liam’s grandmother, a string of black rosary beads that Louis sometimes saw Niall threading through his fingers when he was being unusually quiet, and a book belonging to Louis.

The book had stayed in the same place since Louis had placed it there the very first day he and Niall had moved in. He never picked it up, barely ever looked at it. But sometimes when one of the other boys was just starting to notice a thin sheet of dust settling over its cover, they would come home the next time to see it completely clean, the bright cover illustration clear to see and the faded gold lettering easy to decipher once again. Niall and Liam, in their turn, had been close to asking about it, but neither of them ever did, knowing they probably wouldn’t get an answer. Even Niall, who had known Louis and been his closest friend for almost 2 years, sometimes felt like he barely knew him. He knew who he was now, knew who had been when they had first met and had witnessed the changes in him over those years that had made him who he was today, but before that Niall knew nothing. Louis’ past was a mystery to him, something they had never talked about but Niall understood because he had secrets, too, wrapped up inside himself so tight that he didn’t think he could ever talk about them again. The only thing that mattered to either of them now was looking forward, together.  


Louis was still staring at the book on the window sill when the door opened and his two best friends ambled in, breaking him out of his reverie. 

“You alright, Louis?” asked Liam, noticing the somber look on his face. 

“Yeah.” replied Louis, looking at Liam and smiling his second real smile of the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn and Harry were lost. 

At least he’s done this before, Zayn thought, Harry was completely and utterly lost and his face was showing his pain so blatantly that he was finding it hard to look at. They were sitting in a deserted side alley in a very different part of town than they were used to. Zayn put his arm around Harry’s sagging shoulder’s and wondered just what the hell they were going to do now. 

It was less than 24 hours since the fire and they were both still reeling. Their entire lives had been in that house and it was gone in an instant. Zayn and Harry hadn’t actually been there at the time, thank god, thought Zayn slightly guiltily. They had been out, against Harry’s parents’ wishes and probably not in Zayn’s job description as house servant but they had been escaping the house together every free moment they had had since they had moved into the house that was now nothing more than a pile of blackened rubble.

Zayn had been the first to see the smoke rising from their street as they neared home stumbling slightly each with their arms around the other to hold each other up. His mind had just focused enough to start to be alarmed when the explosion sounded and suddenly they were running, Zayn almost tripping over his own feet innumerable times in his haste to keep up with Harry who was running faster than Zayn had previously thought possible. 

When they had reached the street the whole row of building on both sides had been up in flames. Zayn didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight or the impossible heat that felt like it was under his skin. He had only been able to stare at the horrific scene before him for a few seconds before he realised that Harry was no longer at his side. Panicking, he had scanned the small crowd of people running around the street for his friend’s curly hair. He had found him arguing viciously with one of the many firemen on the street, a crazed look in his eyes that Zayn hoped he would never have to see again.

Harry was screaming at the man in front of him, who was of similar height but far, far broader. From what Zayn could see and hear amongst the panic around them it seemed that the man was trying to stop Harry from going anywhere near where his house was.

Had been, Zayn realised with a lurch, forcing himself to look at the exact spot where Harry’s family home should have been standing. All that was left of it now was a pile of charred and burning wood.

They’re dead, Zayn thought, staring dumbly at the flames consuming what had been his home ever since he had come to New York. Harry seemed to have realised it as well as tears streamed down his face but he continued to scream futilely at the fireman who just looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and irritation. 

The heat of the fire felt like it was burning Zayn’s skin as he came back to his senses, tearing his eyes away from the wreckage and on to his grief crazed friend who seemed to be losing even more control with every passing second. They were in danger here, Zayn realised, grabbing Harry on the arm, hard, momentarily distracting him enough that he turned to look at him. Zayn took advantage of the other boy’s silence to level him with the most serious and urgent look he could conjure.   
“We have to go.” he said, gripping Harry’s forearm with enough strength that there would probably be bruises as a result. 

“Zayn, I-” Harry began to argue back, his voice surprisingly weak after his outburst of only moments before. 

“No. We have to go now.” Zayn said, squeezing his hand even tighter around his friends arm in an attempt to draw his attention to the very real danger they were in and how it was becoming worse with every moment that passed. 

Harry opened his mouth to protest but, after giving Zayn a quick searching look, nodded meekly, making only the sound of a small sob as Zayn loosened his grip and took his wrist in his hand to lead him away. 

~ 

Neither of them knew how long they had walked for during the small hours of that morning. After leaving the initial area of destruction and panic they just hadn’t stopped. It occurred to Zayn sometime around when the sun began to colour the sky that they weren’t just walking to get away from the horror of what they’d witnessed, they were walking because they had absolutely nothing and nowhere to go.

Zayn had stumbled a bit when the thought had struck him and panic had clawed up his throat and threatened to choke him but Harry just kept walking without looking back once, shoulders hunched and completely silent. So Zayn had kept going. He understood that Harry would stop when the events of the night broke through his protective shield of ignorance. He would stop when the realisation made him stop, and not before then. So Zayn would stay with him, because he would need him, and because they were all the other had now to keep them from being completely and totally alone. 

Harry stopped walking just after it became fully light. The call of the news hawker shouting the headline of the morning had been what had done it, Zayn thought. Harry had kept his steady pace for hours with Zayn right at his side but when the news of the devastating fire had been called out, so shrill and clear and _close_ , it had made Harry stop in his tracks, breath catching as his hands curled into fists at his sides. Zayn had been on the other side of this too many times not to recognise when someone is trying so, so hard not to break. The only thing he could do was drag the other boy into a practically empty alleyway and hope that no one would follow them or tell them to leave. As soon as they were alone Harry started to shake, his face paler than Zayn had ever seen it. He sat down on the ground as sobs began to rip through his body making him convulse slightly, tears pooling in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks as his hands pulled through his hair in an insane looking attempt to keep himself grounded as the pain hit him again and again. Zayn held his shaking friend for what felt like hours until his breathing started to even out and the sobs came farther apart. He didn’t dare move and after a while he began to think that Harry had fallen asleep in his arms, face still wet and hands still tangled in his hair. Zayn was just about to carefully reposition both of them to a more comfortable spot when Harry spoke for the first time since they had left their ruined street. 

“Zayn?” he asked quietly, his voice was raw and vulnerable from lack of use and crying and Zayn had to squeeze his eyes shut to control his own voice before he replied.  
“Yeah, Harry?” he said, imitating the quiet volume Harry had spoken with, as if they would disturb something if they spoke any louder. 

“What are we going to do?” the question was almost muted and Zayn had to strain to catch the words but the crack in Harry’s voice was unmissable and he wondered for a desperate second how he was ever going to put this boy back together.

Zayn knew “I don’t know.” is what he wanted to say, what he felt. He had absolutely no idea what they were going to do or how he was going to start again when he had just about managed to let himself believe that he was safe and secure. And now here he was again with nowhere to go, no money and this time instead of the curly haired boy beside him being his saviour, he was his burden. 

The last few years of Zayn’s life had, without a doubt, been the easiest and happiest of all the others he had lived through. He had never thought that becoming a stowaway like he had would lead to the life he had acquired by sheer luck. Being handed a train ticket by his weeping mother on his 14th birthday had been one of the most terrifying and confusing things to ever happen to him. He hadn’t understood why they wanted him to leave, had thought they didn’t love him anymore. He understood now, of course. It was either him, the oldest, go or let his younger siblings go without food to keep their home. It had been the only choice. That didn’t mean it had hurt any less when he had hugged his family for what he knew would be the last time right before he boarded a train to take him to his new life so hopelessly and utterly alone. He still winced to think of the memory, the ghost of that fear crawling back to him and applying itself to his current situation. 

After getting the train, the boat had been easy. After weeks of sleeping in the street on the brink of starvation most days, it had felt like his only option. He spent a few days down at the docks, learning the place inside and out, learning when the boats went and where they went to. He had already decided on America, he didn’t think there was anywhere in the world he wanted to go to so much and so when the boat had pulled in to the dock he had climbed on board without being seen and spent two days in the hold, falling in and out of consciousness and getting closer to starvation than he had ever been. The only thing that got him through it was the promise of a new world and a completely new start in a place that he hoped would be kind to him. 

By the time the passengers began to board, Zayn had been so weak and delirious that thinking on it now, it was a miracle he didn’t get caught straight away. But somehow he managed to keep his cover and nursed himself back to health slowly with the scraps of kindly strangers and the horrible food provided on the ship for passengers of his class. After a week on board he began to feel almost like himself again and so he decided to go exploring to alleviate the crushing boredom he felt living in the confined space.

It was on his first trip out of the lower class lodgings and while he had been attempting to find the control room, that he had first met Harry. Their initial suspicion of each other had quickly led to a close friendship that had made the trip much less excruciating for both of them as they roamed the decks and explored the inner workings of the boat. Harry wasn’t on his own like Zayn was, though, and he didn’t sleep in the tiny cramp spaces at the bottom of the boat. He was rich, Zayn soon learned, the only son of a businessman and his lovely wife, doted on all his life and never wanting for anything. It had made Zayn terrified to think of leaving Harry, the only real friend he had had since starting his new life full of loneliness and worry, and being all alone again. It had kept him awake for nights on end as the waves rocked the frame of the boat he was floating further and further away from home on. 

However, his future was not as big and unknowable and terrifying as those restless nights led him to believe it was. Harry’s parents had taken a shine to him and when they docked in New York, just as Zayn was about to make his tearful goodbyes and try and find his place in this big, new world, Harry’s parents had offered him a place in their new household as a servant. Zayn had never felt gratitude like it before in his life; he had had to choke back tears as he thanked them both respectfully. It was the absolute best he could’ve hoped for and he was grateful to them every day. 

Zayn was brought back to the harsh reality of the day at that thought because Harry’s parents were gone now and he had to do what they would have wanted the most, look after Harry. 

Beside him, Harry had turned to look expectantly at him, still waiting hopefully for an answer to his question. Zayn knew that Harry had always assumed that Zayn was strong, had always relied on him through everything. And so Zayn had to have the answers and had to step in and be the reliable figure that Harry, who was still so young in so many ways, desperately needed. 

Zayn took a deep breath before giving his answer. 

“We’re going to do what we have to do, Harry. And we’re going to survive.”

Harry’s small answering smile was all Zayn need to believe those words himself.

~

A few hours later, after Harry had fallen asleep for a while lying on the cold ground while Zayn had stayed awake figuring out what their next move would be, they were walking again. Both of them were silent, Harry still pale and exhausted and very obviously in pain. Zayn ran a hand through his hair as they turned a corner that led onto a slightly quieter street. The sun was just beginning to fall behind the buildings in the distance and Zayn thought that this had been the longest day of his life. In his head Zayn faced grim calculations of how long they could survive with what they currently had, a few coins and the clothes on their backs. Without shelter they wouldn’t last long. Winter was quickly approaching, evident in the bite Zayn felt on his exposed forearms. Neither of them had eaten since the day before. Zayn worked out that on their current budget that could afford one loaf of bread. He cursed himself for not having more of his saved up wages with him and cursed Harry for insisting on buying drink after drink the night before with no regard to how fast his money was going.

Harry would never have that privilege again, Zayn thought sadly, even though it was probably the last thing on the other boy’s mind right now. Zayn had never begrudged Harry anything about his life, he had always thought that if anyone deserved the good fortune he had been blessed with, it was Harry. He knew that, had things gone the way they should’ve and Harry had inherited his family’s millions, he would never have left Zayn behind, just like his parents hadn’t on that terrifying first day in the new world. 

The relationship they had shared through years of growing up together was something that neither them could explain. The friendship that had started on the ship only grew stronger as they grew older. They knew everything about each other, had been sneaking to each other’s rooms on sleepless nights after a few weeks to lie beside each other and tell each other their stories, how Harry felt the pressure of expectation from his family more than anyone thought and how Zayn sometimes forgot what his mother looked like when she smiled and it terrified him. Some nights when they both felt the need to get out of the confines of the house, they escaped out the servant’s entrance and ran with their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing and waking the sleeping members of the household. Those were some of their best nights, both of them soon becoming familiar faces in the local bars as they drank and talked and flirted the nights away. 

They had been some of their worst nights, too. The vivid memory of finding Harry fiercely kissing a young slim boy that Zayn had vaguely recognised as one of Harry’s school friends came to mind. Watching Harry’s face completely drain of all colour as he had seen Zayn watching them with wide eyes wasn’t something Zayn ever like to remember. But it was nothing compared to how, after they had walked home in silence, Harry had lain in his bed and cried until Zayn’s shirt had been completely soaked through.

After getting over the shock of the incident Zayn had reassured him over and over that it was okay and made him promise not to keep such a secret from him again. Harry had just nodded like he didn’t really believe him and looked like he was going to cry again until Zayn hugged him harder than ever before and they had lain like that until both of them had fallen asleep. Zayn had been scared though, and still was. There was so much in the world that Harry needed to be protected from. The Harry that Zayn knew, the real one, was more fragile than he led people to believe. 

The responsibility Zayn had always felt in regards to protecting Harry was more real than ever now. Despite being the same age, Zayn had sometimes felt like a parent to his friend, and now he was the only one he had left. 

Deciding that they should get something to eat before either of them grew weak from hunger, Zayn walked into the nearest bakery that looked like it was about to close and told Harry to wait for him outside. When he emerged a few moments later, a slightly stale loaf in his hand, the sight of Harry sitting against a wall staring blankly into the air came very, very close to breaking Zayn’s heart. 

The circles under his eyes had darkened considerably since Zayn had last looked at him properly and his skin had turned from completely white to a strange grey colour. Zayn assumed that he didn’t look much better himself but it was the way that Harry was holding himself that really got to him. It was subtle but to someone who knew him as well as Zayn did the way Harry was curling in on himself was extremely obvious. It looked like his entire body had subconsciously decided to move in a way that reminded Zayn of drawings he had seen of frightened baby animals.

Zayn shook his head minutely at the scene and walked over to sit beside Harry and hand him half the loaf of bread. Harry took it without a word and tore a chunk out of it with his teeth, quickly swallowing the food in a way that looked painful to Zayn. 

After he had torn through the bread at a truly alarming rate, Harry went back to staring into the air around him. Zayn took his time finishing the small meal that could be his last for a while, knowing that when he finished he would have to think of what to do next. This was going to be his life now, he thought. One step after another, what do we do next, and then, and then? 

Swallowing his last bite, Zayn looked down at his hands that were resting in his now empty lap, working up the strength to stand up and keep going. Pushing himself against the wall behind him, he stood up, grabbing Harry’s arm gently and pulling him up to stand in front of him. 

“We’re going to have to sleep outside.” Zayn said, leaving his hand on Harry’s arm as the boy swayed a bit. 

“Okay.” Harry replied quietly, not really looking at him, still lost in his own mind. 

Zayn opened his mouth to say something else, something comforting, but he closed it again when nothing came to mind that could possibly help. 

By the time they had found a doorway of an abandoned building big enough to fit the two of them, the city was in darkness, the moon the only light they had to guide their way. Squeezing themselves into the corner of the doorway, they huddled together in an attempt to keep warm. After a long while of silence, Zayn was just drifting off when he heard Harry mumble something beside him.

“What?” he asked, not catching the words. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Harry mumbled , slightly louder this time, voice scratchy as if he’d been crying again. 

Caught off guard, Zayn couldn’t think of a reply. In the place of words, he took Harry’s hand in his own and held it until they both drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The three boys walked in companionable silence in the near darkness, the moon being the only light. Their feet carried them without much thought and there was a buzzing excitement bouncing around between them keeping them warm though the hair was standing on end on their arms and necks. Their breath was fogging the air in front of them as they walked and each of them was lost in their own thoughts, a small smile present on each young face.

Every so often Niall would nudge one of the boys on either side of him just to smile at them. The others were glad to see Niall so happy as their lives seemed to generally abide by the rule that if Niall was happy, they were all happy.

Arriving at the bar they stepped over the threshold and gratefully into the enveloping warmth within. The bar was one they had been coming to regularly since the very first night Niall and Louis had moved in and it had soon become part of their home and the lives they somehow managed to scrape together. 

It wasn’t big, just a room with tables and other scattered furniture, a bar along the left wall, and a huge fireplace in the center of the back wall. A few heads turned to look at them when they entered and many of them smiled or nodded in recognition. An old Irish drunk at the bar, a regular, turned to raise his glass to them unsteadily and slur “Howye lads?” then turning to Niall and saying “’tis hell is all it is here. The work at home might be harder but at least the drink is dear!” 

“Good man.” Replied Niall, grinning at the man and slapping him on the back before moving on the shake hands with a few of the other men at the bar, Liam and Louis doing the same. The barman looked up from where he was pouring a drink to greet them with a smile and a nod. 

Eventually reaching their usual table at the back near the fire, they sank into their seats and waited for their drinks to arrive. 

“You know what; I think we should treat ourselves like this more often.” Said Louis. “We work too hard.”

“This is our third time here this week, Louis, unless you’ve forgotten, which I suppose is possible. But I doubt you’ve forgotten the day after.” Replied Liam trying to look serious but failing as he smiled. Louis grimaced. 

“I remember it with perfect clarity, my friend, but what I’m saying is that 3 is not 7 and therefore we have missed 4 golden opportunities.” He smiled at Liam with a glint in his eye. “So we’ll have to make up for lost time tonight.” 

Liam tried to sigh disapprovingly but it turned into a fond laugh before it could start. Just then, the bar’s waitress came over with their drinks and set them down in front of each of them, taking more time than was needed to place Niall’s perfectly in front of him and leaning over him just slightly more than necessary. 

“Thanks.” Said Niall, smiling at her and making her cheeks colour. Louis and Liam looked at each other behind her back smiling; half exasperated, half proud. 

“You’re welcome.” She said quietly, obviously going for alluring but hitting it just on the wrong side of shy. When she couldn’t find reason to stay any longer, she walked away shaking her hips in a way that was obviously for Niall’s benefit. 

Niall winked at his friends and took a large sip from his drink, keeping his huge grin on his face throughout. 

“How do you do it, man?” Louis laughed. 

“Couldn’t tell ya.” Replied Niall, grin growing even wider. 

“Are you ever going to give the poor girl a chance?” asked Liam, looking at him with ill-concealed awe.

“I’d only break her heart.” He said, eyes glinting as Liam made an exasperated noise and Louis lifted his glass to knock it against Niall’s.  
“You’re a hero, mate.” Said Louis, throwing his arm around Niall with a fond smile.

“I know.”

~  
A few hours later when they had all drank their fair share, and maybe more in Louis’ case, they pulled their chairs around the dying fire with the other late stayers who hadn’t gone home yet or in many cases, didn’t have homes to go to. Behind him Louis heard the barman clear his throat and he realised that the small crowd was looking at their trio expectantly and a few had even begun to move their chairs away from the fire to create a larger circle. Louis looked at his friends, whose grins mirrored his own. Standing up from their chairs and dragging them to the center of the slowly enlarging circle, they waited until everything had quieted around them. 

Liam began singing the first notes of the song with Niall and Louis joining in after the first verse as the people around them relaxed into their chairs, some of them even closing their eyes to listen. 

And this right here was Louis’ favourite part of the night. It never mattered what size the crowd was, sometimes it was a full bar and sometimes it was one or two people but it always felt the same. It was almost magical with the lanterns turned low and the alcohol running through their veins. It was the only time Louis ever sang in front of anyone other than Niall and Liam and even though he was often terrified, he loved it more than anything else. 

Finishing the song to a smattering of applause and requests for another which they obliged, Louis felt more at peace than at any other time in his life. 

After a few more songs they helped the barman to put the furniture back in its place and said their goodbyes. As soon as they were outside the door Louis threw his arms around his friends, stumbling only slightly in his attempt to balance himself. The two boys smiled at him and put an arm each around his waist to steady him. 

They had walked about half of their way home when they heard a noise coming from a side street that made all three of them stop in their tracks. It was unmistakably the sound of a fight but the terrified pleading coming from at least one person involved was what had caught their attention. They stood and listened for a short moment before the shouting got even louder and all three of them took off running in the direction of the voices. 

~

When they arrived at the scene they were greeted by the sight of 3 very large and very drunk men shouting and mumbling respectively but, in the case of two of them, holding two very frightened boys by the front of their shirts as they pleaded to be let go. The third man was shouting obscenities as he looked for something to try and steal. None of them turned their heads in the direction of the three boys as they stepped into view. 

They watched quietly for a few seconds until, in frustration, the largest man slammed the boy he was holding, who had curly hair and wide frightened eyes, up against a wall in a way that looked extremely painful. 

“Hey!” Liam shouted, regretting it only slightly as every pair of eyes in the area, including those of his friends beside him, turned to look at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Put those boys down, they don’t have anything.” His voice was strong and confident and he hoped that they couldn’t sense the hint of trepidation in his tone. 

The man who held the other boy, whose face was mostly hidden from them by a large forearm, laughed cruelly, losing his footing slightly at the effort. 

“What are you little shits going to do about it, eh?” he snarled, glaring at them. “Run home to your mothers now and stay the fuck out of other people’s business.”

The boy the man was holding suddenly tried to break from his grasp, taking advantage of his momentary distraction and attempting to run at the man who still held the curly haired boy roughly against the wall. The bewildered look on the man’s face turned to anger in a split second as he realised what had happened and he swung one huge fist after the retreating boy, catching him on the jaw with enough force to knock him to the ground. The boy pinned against the wall gave a helpless whimper and suddenly Niall was advancing on the men with Louis and Liam following quickly behind, fists curled at their sides. 

“Hey, fucker!” Niall shouted, eyes blazing as he walked towards the nearest man, as he got closer he lowered his tone to a dangerous snarl “Let them go and I promise I’ll go easy on you.” 

All three men laughed and looked down at the slight blonde boy and the condescension in their eyes was all Niall needed. 

He planted his feet firmly and then, in the oldest trick known to street fighting, screamed at the top of his lungs. The man in front of him startled and Niall took the opportunity to land a punch where his neck met his collarbone. Windpipe probably half crushed, he fell to the ground. Niall took a moment to grab the hand of the injured boy on the ground and shove him behind him before looking around to see Louis facing a man approximately twice his size with a defiant look as the boy he had just rescued ran as fast as he could away and towards the boy with the dark hair behind Niall. Liam was on the steps of the house they were in front of staring down a cowering man who held his jaw and whimpered.  
Niall hurriedly approached the place where Louis trying desperately to get the upper hand on the man in front of him. Running up, Niall threw his full force behind an elbow to the man’s stomach, knocking Louis aside in the process. The man crumpled and Niall and Louis shared a triumphant smile for a split second before Niall was yanked up from behind and slammed with such force against the wall that his head spun.

It was the man he had left only seconds before and Niall, underneath his panic and anger, was slightly impressed at his resilience. Coming back to himself slightly, Niall could feel the man’s foul breath on him and he grimaced and glared into the face that was far too close to his own. Incapable of doing anything from where he was pinned he hoped desperately that Louis or Liam managed to help him because if not he was well and truly fucked and he didn’t want the face of this idiot to be the last thing he ever saw. 

Luckily, just as he was beginning to contemplate the meaning of life in his presumed final moments, the man buckled and was wrenched from him by the surprisingly strong arms of Louis. Niall fell to the ground, catching his breath. 

Louis pinned the man to the wall Niall had been up against seconds earlier by bracing his forearm across the man’s neck. The man looked terrified as Louis put every ounce of energy left in his body into the death glare he threw at him. Louis stared with such intense hatred that the oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the narrow street as everyone turned to see what was going to happen. 

Louis let the man tremble for a while before he spoke. When he finally did his voice had that cutting quality that only appeared when he was dangerously angry.

“You and your shithead friends are going to leave right now and you’re never going to come anywhere near these streets again, alright?” his voice lowered even more and he adjusted his arm to press on the man’s already injured windpipe, making him gasp and his eyes bulge. Half of Louis’ mouth curled into an evil looking smile. “Or I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?” 

The man nodded meekly and Louis pressed against his injury one more time, producing a whimper from the man who now looked more like a child than any of them, before grabbing the man’s shirt and shoving him away from him. The man began to run as soon as he was free who his friends, who were being held down by Liam and Niall, following his lead as soon as they loosened their grip. 

All four of the other boys stared at Louis, whose hands were still in fists at his side and his eyes still dark with anger. Niall had never seen him so angry before and it scared him. Probably against his better judgment, he began to walk over to try and calm him down but before he could take a full step the pain from his injuries shot through him and he let out a small cry of pain. 

At the sound, Louis’ face completely drained of anger and he looked around himself as if he was confused as to how he got there. He scanned the area around him and seeing Niall wincing in pain he walked quickly over to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.

“Yeah I’m grand.” He replied, then, a little in awe tinged with worry. “Are you?!”

By this time Louis was looking at the curly haired boy with the big eyes and his darker skinned friend who had an impressive mark blooming on his jaw.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” He answered, distracted, then turning to look at the new boys again he asked “Are you two okay?” 

The boy with the hurt jaw nodded without looking at him. 

“Yeah we’re fine, I think. Thanks for that, by the way. Really. It probably could’ve gone a lot worse if you three didn’t turn up when you did.” Said the boy with the curly hair which was actually a little ridiculous, Louis thought, now that he looked at it properly. He let his eyes rest on the boy for a few seconds before Niall replied on behalf of them all. 

“No problem, mate. Looked like you needed the help and we love an exciting end to the night, don’t we boys?” he laughed, wincing slightly as he slapped Liam on the back and smiled at him. 

There was a short pause in the conversation as though none of them knew quite what to say until Niall, ever the savoir of awkward situations, thrust his hand out and smiled widely at the still shell shocked looking boys.

“I’m Niall, by the way. And this is Louis and Liam.” He said, gesturing to his friends. 

“I’m Harry.” The boy held out his hand to shake Niall’s, “And this is Zayn.” Zayn nodded but didn’t speak, instead nursing his jaw with his hand.

Despite the fact that Harry was the one who spoke, he didn’t come across as the leader of the pair. There was something off about him, Louis thought, other than the fact that he’d just been the victim of an almost-mugging. He didn’t look anyone directly in the eye when he was speaking to them. He seemed to flinch away from them, subtly, but Louis had always prided himself on his observational skills. Zayn was clearly the one in charge, all authorative posture and eye contact despite his silence. Louis wondered what their stories were. 

“So how did you two get here?” Niall asked in a friendly way, doing his best to ease the tension of the situation. 

Harry opened his mouth to answer but faltered at the last second and looked down at his feet. His head tilted to the side slightly to look at Zayn beneath his fringe. The action seemed to instantaneously make the other boy forget about his injury and he only winced slightly as he answered in his friend’s place. 

“We were recently made homeless.” He said, looking at Niall with dark, serious eyes as if daring him to question them more. “And we were just trying to find somewhere to sleep. Didn’t realise we’d be disturbed by those drunken idiots.” 

His tone was defnesive but not malicious. Protective but not impolite. Louis felt himself beginning to like this stranger against his own will.

“Do you have anywhere to sleep that’s safe?” Niall asked, concerned.

Zayn lost some of his previous confidence at the unexpected question. His mouth opened and closed a few times in a way that would be comical under different circumstances.  
“We’re fine. We’ll--we’ll find somewhere.” He eventually replied, clearly uncomfortable and the lie was immediately obvious.

Niall looked as though he was turning the reply over in his head for a few seconds.

“Listen, lads, we’ve a fairly decent couch and some floor space going to waste and it’s fairly doubtful anyone is going to disturb you there unless it’s my snoring.” He smiled as he said it, turning ever so slightly to Louis who nodded in approval. 

“We’d love to have you.” Said Liam from Niall’s other side. 

Zayn’s eyes flicked over to him momentarily as if only just noticing he was there. His gaze turned back to Niall and he was about to protest but Niall held up a hand to silence him before he could speak. 

“Don’t even try. You’re staying with us. It’s the least you can do after our heroic rescuing.” 

Zayn and Harry looked at each other for a split second, sharing a silent communication. They nodded almost imperceptibly at each other before turning back to the three waiting boys. 

“Thank you.” Zayn said quietly, looking at each of them individually. His shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension as he smiled. His grateful smile changed to a small, sad one as he turned to look at Harry whose eyes had returned to the distanced look from earlier. 

Harry felt like he might cry again and bit the inside of his lip to prevent it. He winced slightly as he felt the raw flesh there and the taste of blood filled his mouth. Looking up he saw the boy closest to him was looking at him strangely, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity and muted concern. Harry gave him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, feeling a little blood spilling onto his bottom lip before he could stop it. The boy’s, Louis, Harry remembered, eyes widened a little at the sight of the blood. Harry cursed himself mentally and licked his bottom lip hurriedly to get rid of it. The blue eyes had darkened a little when Harry looked up to find he was still staring but the boy looked away before he could wonder about it. 

~

The walk back to the apartment was short and silent. Niall and Liam walked ahead of the others, leading the way while Zayn and Harry walked beside each other just after them and Louis walked slightly behind. About halfway home Harry began to shake slightly and Zayn moved closer to him so that their arms were pressed against each other. They didn’t seem to ever be out of each other’s personal space and it was very clear who was anchoring who.

To Louis, Harry looked like his skin was stretched too tight and thin, too fragile to fit with the rest of his healthy and strong looking self. He’d been hurt badly, Louis deduced, and recently. Pain was something Louis had been able to recognise for a long time. He had seen it in Niall when they first met, in Liam’s guilt ridden face as he told them his story. Sometimes, on bad days when he caught his reflection unexpectedly, he even saw it in himself. Louis felt he knew everything there was to know about pain, and this boy was close to falling apart with it. He wondered for possibly the 100th time in the last hour what had happened to him. 

Arriving at the apartment, Niall gave the newcomers a quick tour before ushering them to the couch and bringing them each a steaming cup of coffee. Liam, Louis and Niall sat on the mattresses crowded around the fire, staring into it. Harry and Zayn sipped their coffee in silence. None of them spoke and the silence stretched out before them. It wasn’t a situation any of them were used to finding themselves in, Louis reasoned. It had just been the three of them for the longest time and Louis couldn’t even remember the last time someone outside of their group had been in their space. And now here were these two strangers who they didn’t know anything about other than they had nowhere else to go.  


Louis looked up at them where they were sat on the couch. The both looked tired, exhausted even, but Zayn was trying not to show it, sitting up straight and keeping his eyes open in a way that looked forced. Louis couldn’t help but feel impressed by his resilience because if he could read fresh pain off Harry, he could read it cemented into everything about Zayn.

Beside him, Harry’s eyes were heavily lidded and his head drooping but the nails on his right hand were digging into his left forearm so hard that it looked like some of the skin might be broken. Zayn seemed to notice at the same as Louis and he placed his hand on top of his friends and looked at him until the grip loosened.  
Louis looked away then, feeling like he was intruding on something private, and stood up to grab the spare blankets they kept in the corner of the room. He dropped them on couch and smiled somewhat sympathetically when Zayn looked up and whispered a thank you. 

~

Louis lay awake for what felt like hours after everyone else had fallen asleep. His bed was closest to the couch and he found himself studying the sleeping silhouettes of the two boys. Zayn was lying against the back of the couch, facing outwards with Harry curled into his front looking like a child despite the fact that he was technically the larger of the two. Louis wondered what they were like when they weren’t these damaged versions of themselves, whether they would ever go back to being those people. 

Suddenly, Harry startled in his sleep. Not enough to wake Zayn but enough to make Louis bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from making a noise of shock. He heard a small sob come from the boy above him. 

“Are you okay?” Louis whispered, not sure whether or not he was actually awake. Harry went completely still at the sound of Louis’ voice before he turned slowly to lie on his other side and look down at the boy below him questioningly. 

“Relative question.” He replied, the corner of his mouth turning up very slightly in a half attempt at a smile that just looked sad and defeated. After a pause, he spoke again. 

“My parents died.” He said, his voice uneven and not looking at Louis now but rather staring hard at the wall straight across from him, his eyes growing distant again like Louis had seen after the fight.

“Mine too.” Louis said before he could stop himself, feeling his entire body jolt slightly when he realised what he had just said. He hadn’t said anything about them in close to three years. Not even to Niall or Liam. He was suddenly very, very glad that they were deep sleepers. 

Harry’s eyes widened at first with surprise and then confusion at the look of panic that crossed Louis’ face. 

 

“I-I don’t talk about them.” Louis explained, seeing the confusion. 

“Oh.” Harry paused. “How did they die?” 

The question was quiet and tentative and his eyes went wide when he asked it as if he was surprised by his own boldness. 

 

Louis opened his mouth as if to respond and considered for a moment turning away and feigning sleep and pretending the conversation had never started. He didn’t owe him his life story. He didn’t owe him anything. But when he looked up at the sad, cautious eyes looking at him, he found he couldn’t do it. He didn’t know it would help but denying someone in such obvious pain any amount of comfort was not something Louis was in the business of doing. And despite what some people, and sometimes he himself, thought, he was a good person. He took a deep breath and began to talk.

“My father was a drunk. He died in a bar fight and didn’t leave us any money.” Louis found himself telling the story for the first time in years. “He was an idiot, a useless prick that never did any good for us but when he was gone we had no way of getting money. I started as a news hawker then. I was 8. We did okay for a while, but I couldn’t support us properly. My mother got sick and I couldn’t pay for a doctor.” His throat tightened at the memory and he put all his efforts into continuing with the story without shedding a tear. “I couldn’t even pay for food because I couldn’t work while looking after her. So one day I went out working to try and get some money. I thought I’d only be a while but I got delayed and by the time I got back she wasn’t breathing.” 

Louis wasn’t looking at Harry anymore, instead choosing to try and make holes in the ceiling with his stare, but Harry was looking at him and Louis could feel it. Neither of them spoke for a while. 

“Why did you tell me that?” Harry asked eventually. 

Louis still didn’t look at him when he answered.

“I don’t know. So you would know you’re not alone, I suppose.” He addressed the ceiling. 

“Thank you.” Harry replied, his whisper almost inaudible. 

This time, Louis turned to look at him. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled, his eyes only slightly damp. Harry returned the small smile. 

“When did your parents die?” Louis asked, even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“Yesterday.” Harry said quietly, the smile gone from his face.

“The fire.” Louis said, less of question than a statement.

“Yeah.” 

“How did you get out?” Louis asked. 

Harry’s breath caught a bit at the question and he had to swallow hard before he answered.

“I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be there and I wasn’t. I should’ve been there and I fucking wasn’t and now I’m here and they aren’t.” His voice was rising dangerously as he spoke and tears sprung to his eyes. 

“Hey.” Louis said soothingly, reaching up and touching the other boys hand where it was lying beside his head. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Harry’s eyes widened at the contact and he flinched slightly but seemed to settle. 

“How am I ever going to believe that?” he asked after a while, looking at the place where Louis’ hand had been a moment before. 

Louis tried to think of what to say to that because he could say what he wanted but guilt clung to him every day. It kept him awake at night and made it hard to breathe when he was alone. 

“I don’t know.” He finally said. 

Harry looked at him searchingly for what felt like an exceedingly long time, his eyebrows drawn together. Louis felt his face heat under the scrutiny. 

“You’re very pretty.” Harry said thoughtfully, almost as if he was saying it to himself. Immediately followed by “I don’t know why I just said that.” as his cheeks heated and he dropped eye contact looking as if he wanted to crawl out of himself. 

Louis let out a startled laugh at the statement and had to clamp his hand over his mouth to not wake the others with his laughter. Harry’s cheeks turned redder than anything Louis had ever seen and he found himself being extremely endeared to him. 

“Thank you, Harry.” Louis replied after he managed to stop laughing. “So are you.” 

Harry’s head snapped up from where he had been studying the suddenly extremely interesting couch pattern. His face felt like it was going to set itself on fire as he looked at Louis smiling at him fondly, eyes still shining from laughter. 

“I-I really didn’t mean to say that.” Harry says, still flushed but looking at Louis now. “And thank you, I suppose.”

Louis laughed quietly and shook his head at him. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, realising he didn’t know it.

“Er...Harry?” the other boy replied, bewildered. 

Louis laughed again. “No, I mean your full name.” 

“Oh. It’s Styles. Harry Styles.” Harry swallowed a bit at the mention of his parent’s name but smiled anyway. 

“Nice to meet you, Harry Styles.” Louis said, extending his hand slightly into the small space between them. “I’m Louis Tomlinson.” 

Harry took the other boy’s hand in his own and shook it. Louis smiled at him again and Harry felt for the first time in two days that maybe he wasn’t going to feel like he was being crushed forever. 

“I think you’re going to be okay.” Louis said then, looking at him genuinely. Harry had always been good at spotting a lie and he felt a lump rising in his throat when he realised this wasn’t one. Tears began to fill his eyes and he gasped slightly to stop himself crying. He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut to try and control his breathing. He was just about to attempt to open his eyes again when he felt a hand brush across the top of his cheekbone wiping away a tear that had fallen there. He held his breath until the hand was gone. He let out a small shaky breath and kept his eyes shut. 

“Goodnight, Harry.” Louis whispered quietly.

“Goodnight, Louis.” Harry whispered back, already falling into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry woke up feeling disorientated. He lay perfectly still and let the knowledge of the last two days trickle back to him slowly. He allowed himself to feel the weight of the pain completely and totally for a few moments, curling in on himself only slightly. He stayed like that for a while in the early morning silence and then he dismissed it. He shoved it to the back of his mind and let it only manifest itself as an ache in his chest. It roared through his mind and infected his every thought but he pushed it all aside because he was going to take the first real steps of his new life today and he was going to be strong. If it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, he was going to be strong. 

He could feel Zayn’s slow and even breathing moving the body pressed up against him. Harry thanked everything in the world that he was still with him because even in his sleep his presence calmed Harry. The heat of him placated the buzzing numbness in Harry’s veins as it always had and the knowledge that he was not alone now or ever had kept him from falling apart before but now, at the closest he’d ever come to breaking point, it felt like a god damn miracle. 

Turning over onto his side, carefully so as not to disturb Zayn, Harry felt a memory jolt through him at the sight of the boy sleeping peacefully below him. He smiled to himself remembering the conversation they had shared even if his cheeks did heat slightly as the whole thing came back to him. 

He hadn’t been lying, though, when he had said what he said. In the early morning sunlight that much was clear. Louis looked younger in his sleep, the animation gone from his face along with any stress or strain. The light coming from the lone window illuminated his features, casting shadows in the hollows of his cheeks lighting the ends of his eyelashes that fanned over his cheekbones. He was beautiful, really. Harry had to stop himself from letting out a loud sigh at the absurdity of it all. But remembering how Louis had confided in him the night before, he hoped this beautiful boy’s sudden presence in his life meant he was less alone. 

Just then, Zayn began to move beside him. Harry turned back to face him as his eyes fluttered open, concern already filling them as he looked at Harry. 

“Good morning.” Harry said quietly, smiling slightly to try and reassure his friend.

Zayn didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at him as though he was trying desperately to figure something out and Harry let him because he knew that Zayn had always been able to tell more by just looking at him than Harry would ever be able to tell him. 

Harry’s eyes weren’t distant anymore, was the thing that kept Zayn looking at him. They were back to their usual bright and present selves and even though they showed all of the pain and fear he was carrying, the change made something that had knotted in Zayn’s stomach loosen slightly. Harry smiled again and Zayn found himself smiling back. Throwing an arm over the other boy Zayn gave him a tight hug that should’ve been awkward in the cramped space but wasn’t. Zayn felt Harry smile into his shoulder and something that felt a lot like hope and a lot different to anything else he’d felt in the last two days sparked inside him. They may not have their own roof over their heads or any idea what they were going to do next but if Harry was here and okay and still moving forward, Zayn thought they’d be okay. 

~

It was later that morning that Zayn felt his chest anxiously tightening once again. Liam had cooked all 5 of them breakfast and they had sat around talking about things like when Zayn and Harry had come to America and how Louis and Niall had found the apartment. They didn’t talk about the real stuff, the important and here and now things like whether Zayn and Harry were going to survive when they kicked them out, if they kicked them out. 

After they had finished eating Louis and Niall had gone to wash up and Zayn was sure that this was the moment they had all been leading up to all morning. The talked to each other in low whispers that Liam tried to talk over and Zayn tried to ignore but the panic that kept crawling to the surface would not be ignored. 

Zayn was pretty sure Harry knew what was about to happen as well from the hurt look on his face. He looked completely crestfallen and Zayn felt himself getting irrationally angry at the thought that this might be what made him retreat back inside himself. 

He couldn’t blame them for doing this. He knew that it was probably the only thing they could do. They seemed to be getting by okay but there was no way they could feed two extra mouths who had no money and absolutely nothing to contribute. Zayn and Harry probably would do the same in their situation but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

Zayn was just trying to figure out where they could sleep while simultaneously trying to continue his conversation with Liam when Niall and Louis returned from the other side of the room and sat haphazardly on each arm of chair in the corner. Zayn tried not to let his gaze turn to them, instead moving closer to Harry in a movement that he hoped would say we’re going to be okay and please don’t go again and all the other things he couldn’t say out loud right now. 

Louis cleared his throat loudly and Zayn reluctantly turned to look at him. He noticed that Liam wore an expression that looked about as worried as Zayn felt and he felt a surge of gratitude for it. 

Moving his hand to where Harry’s was lying between them and overlapping them very slightly, Zayn waited for Louis to speak. 

“So” Louis began and there was a grin tugging slightly at the side of his mouth that Zayn would not let himself think about. “Myself and Niall have spoken about it and we were wondering if you’d like to stay?” 

Zayn let the words sink in for a while, feeling like he might possibly have dreamt them. He didn’t realise how long he’d been silent for until Louis began to speak again. 

“As in, permanently. Or at least until you find somewhere better. I don’t think any of us would feel right about telling you to go now.”

His voice was a little less sure and confident but the smile was still there and Zayn finally managed to process the lifeline they were being given. 

“Are you serious?” Zayn asked, almost laughing at how unbelievable the whole thing was. This time it was Niall who answered, a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Of course we’re serious! You hardly thought we were going to leave you out in the cold sure?” He laughed loudly as though the thought was ridiculous and not exactly what Zayn had assumed only moments before. 

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Zayn eventually replied, disbelief in his voice but a wide smile on his face. All three boys were beaming back at him and he felt Harry let out a breath and relax beside him.

“We’re happy to have you, it gets a bit quiet around here sometimes. Some extra people would be no harm.” Niall said, still grinning as Louis rolled his eyes. 

“No, it doesn’t. But my sentiments are the same.” Said Louis, smiling over Zayn’s shoulder at Harry. Zayn felt his friend tense almost imperceptibly at that but he decided to wonder about it some other time.

“So, if that’s settled, I think we better get going or all the papers will be gone.” Louis said happily, starting to move and prompting the others to move as well.

“I want to come with you.” said Zayn suddenly, stopping the three boys in their tracks. “I want to learn, if you’ll teach me?” 

Louis narrowed his eyes slightly as he thought it over. 

“Okay, yeah, why not?” he said after a while, the smile returned to his face. Zayn returned it gratefully and went to join Niall and Liam where they stood waiting at the door. He looked back at Harry where he sat and gave him a small smile. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” he said. Harry nodded and smiled back and Zayn tried not to feel the guilt that was already forming in the pit of his stomach.

~

As soon as the other four had left, Harry had suddenly felt extremely tired, the anxiety he had felt all morning catching up with him. He lay down and let his eyes close, already feeling the relief that sleep would bring him. He only realised how much he had been dreading leaving this place now that he didn’t have to. The relief flooded through him as he lay there and began to feel the now almost alien feeling of safety once again. He dragged a blanket from the floor over himself and tried very, very hard not to see his parent’s faces swim in front of his eyes as sleep overcame him. 

~ 

_He was running. He was running harder than he had ever run in his life. His feet were pounding off the ground and his breath was gone but he wasn’t moving. He couldn’t breathe. He was surrounded by fire now and it was coming closer and he wasn’t trying to run anymore. Where were his parents? They should be here to save him from this. He couldn’t breathe and no one was coming to save him. He tried running again but his legs gave out. Why wasn’t anyone helping him? The fire was too close, too real. His lungs filled with smoke and he was on the ground now. He tried to scream but only smoke came from his broken lungs. He was going to burn, he could feel the heat. It was coming closer. The fire was going to get him. Why wasn’t anyone saving him? “Harry!” he heard in the distance. Maybe someone was coming after all. He just had to wait. But he was tired. “Harry!” he heard again. He was so, so tired._

“Harry!” 

Harry woke with a jolt, trying to catch his breath and flinching away from the hand that was on his arm. He barely registered the tears that were rolling down his face as he fought to come fully back to conciousness. 

“Harry?” the voice said again as Harry realised that he hadn’t dreamt it. He turned over to find Louis crouched beside the couch, concern written across his face. Harry abruptly became aware of the tears that were still falling from his eyes and obstructing his vision. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, attempting to to sit up and wiping under his eyes with his sleeve. “Just a bad dream.”

“It’s okay.” Louis replied smiling gently at him, the concern abating significantly. 

Harry wiped at his eyes again to get rid of the last of the tears and sat up fully, waiting for Louis to move back before he swung his legs to the ground.

Louis got up and walked over to the fireplace, returning a moment later with a cup of coffee each. Louis sat down and they both repositioned themselves until they were sitting facing each other with their legs crossed beneath them. Harry sipped his coffee and looked at Louis for a few minutes before speaking.

“Why are you back so early?” he asked. 

“I’m very good at my job.” Louis replied, raising one half of his mouth in a lazy, cocky smile. Harry swallowed and stared determinedly into his cup because, jesus, did he really have to do that?

“What was your dream about?” Louis asked quietly after a few minutes of silence. He said the words cautiously, like he was being delicate with each one in fear of scaring Harry away.

Harry looked up at him again at the question. All traces of cockiness were gone from him now, replaced by a quiet concern and curiosity.

“The fire, I think. It wasn’t the same but there, there was definitely fire.” He replied, looking down into his cup again. He had thought that that was all he was going to tell but as soon as he said the words he found himself continuing. “It was like I was running? But I wasn’t getting anywhere. And I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t find my, my parents. I think I was dying. But then you woke me up.” He looked up at Louis and gave him a small smile. “Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Louis mirrored his smile. “You’re welcome. I used to have dreams, too. After my mother died. I still do, sometimes. Not so much since I moved in here.”

“You all seem so happy here.” 

“We are, I think. Most of the time. I think we’re good for each other.” Louis said, smiling at thought of his friends. 

Louis had a nice smile, Harry noticed, when it was genuine. It sort of crinkled the corners of his eyes a bit. It was nice. Harry found himself smiling as well.   
“Sorry if I scared you, earlier. I don’t usually do that when I dream.” Harry said, giving a small, sad laugh. 

“You didn’t scare me. But I know what nightmares are like and when someone needs to be woken up from them.”

Harry smiled in a way hoped would convey his gratitude and took a few seconds before asking his next question, the one he’d been wanting to ask ever since he had woken up.   
“Why did you tell me about your parents?” 

“I already told you.” Louis replied, the confidence in his voice wavering only a little. 

Harry gave a short, mirthless laugh. 

“Louis, I’ve been lying every day of my life for as long as I can remember. I know when I’m being told half-truths.”

Louis opened his mouth to reply but nothing came. It was one of the first times he’d ever been left speechless in his recent memory. He laughed at the thought and decided that to answer truthfully was his only real option.

“I- you’re fascinating, Harry. And I don’t know why, but something about you made me want to tell you.” Louis said, looking Harry in the eyes to show he was being as truthful as he could be.

A light blush spread across Harry’s cheeks as he took in what Louis had said. 

“I’m fascinating?” he asked, a little confused looking but grinning. “Why am I fascinating?”

Louis sighed but grinned back.

“Don’t think I can’t tell that you’re just fishing for compliments here. But I’ll tell you anyway because I’m great.” Louis grinned widely at Harry and really, really hoped that he wouldn’t see the panic bubbling just below the veneer of confidence. 

“It’s just the way you’ve reacted to all of this. I’ve never seen a rich boy be this calm about losing anything, never mind everything. You had everything. Zayn was your servant. That doesn’t even make sense to someone like me. And yet you’re so apologetic whenever you’re effected by losing it all. Like there wasn’t a point in time when you were seen as better than all of us. You haven’t even turned up your nose at sleeping on a cramped couch and possibly living in this tiny apartment, for god sake. From what I know of the rich, and I know quite a bit, you’re an anomaly, Harry Styles.” 

“You’ve known me less than 24 hours, how the hell have you managed to garner that much about me?” Harry gaped at him.

“I’ve been told I’m perceptive.” Louis deadpanned. 

Harry laughed, properly laughed, for the first time since before the fire. It was far better to watch than Louis had imagined. It made his eyes bright and his curls bounce a little bit and it made Louis want to give him a puppy every day for a year. 

“So, I’m fascinating because I don’t act like a privileged prick?” Harry said when he managed to stop laughing. “And because I treat Zayn, my best friend, like a human?” 

“Yeah, basically.” 

Harry laughed again and Louis wished more than anything for a moment that he could’ve known him before this happened to him just so he could see him laugh more often. 

“What’s made you so bitter against the upper classes?” 

Louis levelled him with a disbelieving look and Harry laughed again, wiping away a tear with his sleeve because of course he was one of those people who cry when they laugh.   
“So if you think I’m fascinating, does that mean we’re friends?” Harry asked. 

He was still smiling and happier looking than Louis had seen him in the short time they’d known each other but there was a hint of uncertainty there that broke Louis’ heart just a little bit. He could practically feel himself sighing internally as he added Harry to the very short list of people he was protective of. 

“I think anyone who calls me pretty should probably already be my friend, don’t you?” Louis replied.

Harry blushed and ducked his head to hide his smile. 

Well this is inconvenient, thought Louis. 

~

See the thing was that Louis didn’t like anyone, not like that. He didn’t let himself. And he had been fairly certain until approximately 13 hours ago that he wasn’t inclined to members of the same sex. It hadn’t really been something he’d ever thought on but nor was it something he had been expecting. Because he wasn’t inexperienced. People could accuse him of being a lot of things but inexperienced in that department was not one of them. He liked girls. He liked the way they talked and the way they looked at him right before he kissed them and the way their skin felt so soft underneath his fingertips and how he was so good at forgetting their names.

But it wasn’t the fact that Harry was a boy, exactly, that was getting to him. It was the fact that Louis liked him so much. Because there were only two people in his life that he had instantly liked so much and when he looked at them he just saw his best friends. And now he felt like he had then, like he wanted to keep them in his life forever and just a bit like he wanted to wrap them up in cotton wool and never let anything bad happen to them ever again. But this was different too because now he was noticing the colour of Harry’s lips and the line of his jaw and the way his mouth moved when he spoke. 

Louis had promised himself a long time ago that he’d never let himself feel that way about someone and so far it had never been a problem. In moments of self-pity he’d let himself think that maybe his heart had been broken enough in his life. He could get by with what he had now. He could be happy, even. 

But now what he had was the life he’d been leading for two years plus this curly haired, broken boy that called him pretty and blushed while doing it. 

And maybe he’d only known him less than a day and maybe this was only their second conversation but when Louis said he was perceptive he meant towards himself as well and that short time was all he needed to know that he was absolutely, completely, one hundred per cent fucked.

~

So that’s what Louis was trying very, very hard not to think about as he watched Harry fumble around with their meagre stock of food, staring at the small pile as if trying to make more appear by sheer will power.

Harry had wanted to cook dinner for them as a thank you and Louis was starving and a shit cook so he had let him. He didn’t seem to be having much luck though and Louis swallowed the uncomfortable reminder that he was probably used to a lot more than they had. 

“Er-do you have any bread?” Harry asked, looking slightly embarrassed at having to ask. 

“Um, no, I don’t think so. Liam usually deals with that stuff. But you can try the bakery next door? She sometimes gives us leftovers.”

Louis returned Harry’s grateful smile with a small one of his own and tried not to watch the way his body moved as he got up and walked out. He probably should’ve gone with him but he was grateful to be alone to clear his thoughts a bit.

He stretched out on the couch and sighed dramatically, letting his arm fall over his face. A nap would be nice right now. Or a drink. Something to clear his head.

He was just deciding on the former, more viable option when Niall, Liam and Zayn chose that moment to return, throwing the door open laughing and talking loudly. Louis groaned, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

“Will just shut the fuck up for a few minutes? I need a while to get over the trauma of missing the nap you just deprived me of.” 

“Sorry, man.” Niall replied slapping him playfully on the back. Louis growled and Niall laughed.

“You’ll be glad to know that our boy Zayn here was a natural. Nearly sold more than me.” Niall told Louis smiling proudly at Zayn as the other boy blushed lightly. “He’s a damn natural. They were practically fawning at his feet.” 

Louis smiled at the embarrassed looking boy, all traces of annoyance gone from him. 

“That’s brilliant, mate.”

“Thanks.” Replied Zayn happily. He looked around, obviously looking for Harry, the blood draining from his face when his eyes didn’t land on him. 

“Where’s Harry?” he asked, his voice had a sort of strangled quality and Louis was so distracted by his panic that it took him a moment to reassure him.

“Oh, he just went to get some bread.” 

Louis watched in fascination as Zayn looked as though he would collapse from relief. He wobbled a bit on his feet and Liam lightly put a hand on his arm to help him balance. 

Louis felt like he was getting a strange sort of glance into Zayn’s heart and he thought he could understand it, even though he’d never been in a situation like that with one of his boys. 

Zayn took a few seconds to come back to himself, Liam leading him over gently to sit beside Louis on the couch. 

Louis went over to sit in the armchair, allowing Liam to take his space. He tried not to look over as Zayn regained his colour and began to talk quietly with Liam. He looked into the fire instead, sharing a few glances with Niall that communicated things like _shit, what the fuck are we doing_ and _this is so sad_. 

Louis was actually beginning to worry a bit himself when he started to realise how long Harry had been gone but he didn’t mention it, hoping Zayn would be distracted by whatever Liam was telling him. 

It’d been almost half an hour since he’d gone when Harry returns clutching a large paper bag and smiling. 

“I got a job!” He says, smiling wider as everyone looks up at him in shock. 

“What?” Zayn asks just as Louis is about to and he flinches a bit internally, reminding himself that it’s not his place. 

“The woman in the bakery gave me a job! She’s lovely. She gave me all this bread as well I didn’t really want to tell her that we probably don’t need 6 loaves.” 

He looks a bit flustered and his hair is in his eyes but his grin is huge and gets even wider when Zayn grins back and they all let out a collective sigh of relief. 

~

Harry cooks them a chicken and vegetable stew that is probably the best thing that has ever graced their chipped and stained plates and they all tell him so repeatedly until he’s little more than a bundle of graciousness in human form. 

Harry and Zayn barely react when Niall says his short prayer and Louis decides that they can definitely, definitely stay. 

The conversation flows and its easy and they’re all relaxed and laughing by the time they’re finished. It’s considerably less tense than the night before and it feels for a while like they’re all just five happy, young friends. 

Louis enjoys the illusion until he wakes up at some ungodly hour of the night to the sounds of quiet sobs coming from the couch. He resists the urge to sigh and reaches up to tap Harry lightly on the back. The sobs don’t stop as he turns over slowly to look down at Louis and desperately tries to dry his eyes. 

Louis can only see him dimly in the moonlight coming through the window but his eyes are raw from crying and there’s drops of blood on his bottom lip where he’s bitten it too hard. Sobs rack his body and he doesn’t seem capable of stopping. There’s something akin to terror in his eyes and he’s looking at Louis like he’s the absolute only thing anchoring him inside his own body. Louis holds the eye contact feeling completely helpless but hoping his face shows the comfort he’s not sure he’s allowed to give. 

Eventually, Harry’s breathing becomes more regular until the sobs become more like whimpers and he wipes his eyes one last time. He breaks the eye contact and takes a deep breath, his whole body relaxing as he exhales. 

“Sorry” he mumbles, barely loud enough for Louis to hear. He doesn’t look at him. 

“’s okay” Louis replies just as quietly, not trusting his voice because he’s pretty sure that was one of the most heart-breaking things he’s ever witnessed. He feels like puking from the intensity of it and he wants to kill absolutely anyone that has ever so much as looked at Harry the wrong way. His chest aches and he feels like all the wind has been knocked out of him and Harry is still not looking at him.

“Harry?” his voice cracks a little as he says it but he hopes the whisper covers it.

Harry looks at him under his hair, looking only a bit more composed than a moment before. His eyes are dark and red rimmed and there’s a burning intensity in them now, replacing the raw openness from before. Louis’ breath catches when he looks at him and neither of them speak. 

They stay like that for a while, staring at each other, neither of them wanting to be the first one to break it. It’s more deliberate than before, less desperate and more calculated and Louis feels like his skin is on fire under the gaze. Harry doesn’t break it when he speaks. 

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see me like that.” His voice is low and gravelly and tinged with a shame that seems like anger. And Harry is so young, so much younger than any of them, really, but right now, he seems older. He’s vulnerable and there’s weakness there but he’s angry and it’s _powerful_. It’s in the set of his jaw and the burning intensity of his eyes and Louis has absolutely no idea what to say to this version of him. 

“It’s not your fault.” He says quietly, voice wavering a bit because this Harry makes him unsure of himself in a way he hasn’t felt since he was a child in a world full of adults.  
Harry’s eyes soften a little when he hears the waver and once the barrier begins to come down he looks like he might cry again, his eyes beginning to fill almost of their own accord. One of Harry’s hands is hanging down slightly over the edge of the couch and Louis grabs it instinctively, lacing their finger together and rubbing his thumb in small circles over the skin on the back of Harry’s hand. 

He does it without taking his eyes off Harry’s face and watches half amused, half terrified as his eyes go wide and he stares down at their hands. Harry has lovely hands, Louis notices, and he wishes it were under different circumstances that he got to notice them for the first time. They’re huge and pale and thin and strong looking and Louis thinks they’re beautiful and isn’t surprised at all. 

When Harry looks back at him his eyes are still comically wide and he doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t move his hand, either and Louis takes it as a small victory. 

“Do you think you can sleep now?” Louis asked softly.

Harry nods and Louis smiles at him before closing his own heavy eyes. He leaves his hand where it is and is beginning to drift off again when he feels Harry pull on it slightly. Louis concentrates very hard on keeping his eyes closed as he feels Harry bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing it lightly, his lips just barely touching the skin. Louis can feel Harry's breath ghosting over his skin and had to bite his lip to suppress a shiver. 

Harry moves their hands back to their original position, adjusting them a bit so they’re both more comfortable. Louis quietly tries to even out his breathing, hoping it won't obvious. 

He can feel the movement of Harry’s chest against his hand. He falls asleep counting the seconds between his breaths.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. 
> 
> Beautiful people do not just happen." 
> 
> ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to Lisa for your contributions to this fic xx

Harry woke up early the next morning wondering idly whether he would ever be able to sleep properly again. He looked down at his hand, which was still linked with Louis’, and felt his chest tighten even as a he smiled. He disentangled their hands, holding the other boy’s hand in his palm for a few moments, studying it. His skin was tanned, almost gold in the early morning sunlight and his hand was small and delicate in a way that boy’s usually aren’t. Harry felt his chest tighten further as he looked at the place where Louis’ hand met his wrist, just below the heel, where it was slightly paler and unbearably smooth, the criss-crossing veins standing out clear and beautiful. He allowed himself a moment to press his thumb against the pulse, feeling it beat slowly. He had the vague feeling that he wanted to package the fluttering of that pulse against his thumb and keep it with him forever. 

He gently placed the hand on Louis' chest. His face looked so peaceful in his sleep and Harry felt an almost overwhelming amount of gratitude to him. Because he felt like he was being torn apart every second but then there was this boy who wiped away his tears and held his hand just to comfort him and made him feel like maybe he could be okay again, someday. 

~

The rest of the boys woke up shortly after Harry, hurriedly eating and getting ready to leave. Zayn gave him a quick hug before he left and he had looked so excited to be starting his second day as a newsboy that Harry didn’t think there was enough time in the world to express just how glad he was for him. 

When he was left alone, Harry lay back down on the couch and practiced not being overwhelmed. He tried to think of his parents without falling back in to the dream-like space he had inhabited during those long hours after he had left the site of his home for the last time. He knew how much it had scared Zayn and he was determined not to make this harder for either of them than it already was. 

So he thought of how his mother would smile at him when she was proud and how she never let him cut off his curls despite his father’s disapproval. He thought of how she always seemed to know more about him than he ever told her and would hug him exactly whenever he needed it most. 

He thought of how his father looked at him when he was proud, much more rare and all the more cherished for it. He thought of how his father had ruffled his hair on his first day at school and told him all the things he was going to be. He even remembered the crushing pressure and expectation he had always felt and he missed it and wondered how that could be.

And his chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself with the weight of missing them but he kept breathing through it because he would work through this if it killed him. He was in control now and he forced himself to believe that the pain was manageable.

He took a few deep breaths before sitting up and tried to push it to the back of his mind. A familiar metalic taste filled his mouth as he bit into his already damaged lip and pulled at his hair until his breathing became regular once again. 

The feeling eventually receded until it was just an ache in his chest and he couldn’t help but feel proud that he had managed not to cry. It felt productive, as if it wasn’t swallowing him, and he relished it. 

He walked the short distance to the bakery feeling lighter on his feet. The old woman’s face lit up when she saw him and Harry was immeasurably glad that he was managing to make at least one person happy instead of dragging them down with him. It had been who he was before all of this, most of the time. Always smiling and laughing and lifting the mood the minute he walked into a room. He wanted to be that person again and now, being around a person that didn’t know anything about him, maybe he could be. 

He spent the rest of the day lifting and cleaning and sweeping and insisting that Mrs Piest sit down while he tended to customers, which he found he was good at. He had always been told that he had a certain ‘charm’ and it felt good to be putting it to use again. 

There was a sort of silent understanding between Harry and the kind old baker. She didn't him about his background and it didn’t look as though she would. She had probably guessed, he thought. Just like he had guessed that she had had a son, probably one that had resembled him, who was now either dead or gone. And he felt guilty about that being the most probable reason she gave him the job but not guilty enough to give it up. They were both leaning on each other, he reasoned. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. He liked having someone rely on him, even if only to bring back memories of someone else. 

The day passed quickly and it felt like no time before Harry was closing the doors and sweeping up the last of the dirt and fallen flour from the floor. Mrs Piest gave him a small parcel and he pecked her quickly on the cheek before saying his goodbyes and wishing her a goodnight. 

A feeling of excitement buzzed underneath his skin as he made his way back to the apartment and he smiled as the word “home” came to mind. 

~

Louis sold the last of his papers just as darkness fell, giving them away at half his usual price. He walked with a defeated slump that was very different from his usual buoyant steps. It was at least an hour later than he usually finished at and he felt desperately tired as he ran a hand dejectedly through his hair and sighed. 

He had been off his game all day and had found it difficult to concentrate for more than 10 minutes at a time. It was the worst day for sales he had had in years. He had found himself at various points throughout the day staring blankly at potential customers and letting them slip right from his grasp and it was infuriating. 

He had done all right, though. It was nothing he should be especially worried about, he reasoned. Louis on a bad day was probably better than half the news hawkers in New York on a good day. 

He comforted himself with that thought and allowed himself to slip back into his own mind as he had been trying not to do all day. A small smile played on his lips as he thought of what had been distracting him. 

Harry. All day he had been thinking of him and it was actually getting out of hand, really, how much he had taken over his mind in the space of two days. Everything about him just got to Louis somehow. His hair and his eyes and his lips, every little thing about him had been popping into Louis’ head all day and he was powerless to stop it. But it wasn’t just that, Louis had felt the overwhelming urge all day to run home just to make him laugh and watch him talk or maybe even just to check if he was okay and even he knew how ridiculously over the top it all was. 

It vaguely made him want to punch something because he already cared so stupidly much. Maybe this was infatuation, he thought. Something he had laughed at Niall for as he fell for every girl he saw, until he grew into himself and things had abruptly turned around. 

He sighed again as he rounded the corner and saw the flickering of a lamp in the window of their apartment, the only light on the now almost completely dark street. He felt himself relax almost subconsciously and a small smile spread across his face when he saw it and felt what he was absolutely positive he would never get used to; the call of home.

~

Dinner that night was a loud affair and Louis took it as a sign that Zayn and Harry were settling in and tried to hide how happy that made him. Liam and Harry split the cooking responsibilities between them, Harry teaching Liam how to cook food fit for a rich palette and Liam teaching Harry how to do it with a poor person’s stock of food. They laughed conspiritually throughout the process and threw proud smiles at each other as the other boys praised them for their delicious, nay, perfect cooking. 

At the table, which now had five mismatched chairs instead of three thanks to the kindness of their absent neighbours, they exchanged tales of mischief and Louis, Niall and Liam were delighted to find that their stories of miscreant behaviour were almost rivalled by Zayn and Harry’s. 

Harry produced the small cake he had gotten from the bakery after they had finished their meal and was subjected to a five minute long declaration of love from Niall that had him gasping for breath as he laughed. 

He caught Louis looking at him when he laughed and grinned at him in a way that had Zayn looking between the two of them until Louis dropped his eyes and Harry’s cheeks coloured slightly. Zayn looked at him questioningly until Harry dismissed it with a minute shake of his head. 

That night Harry volunteered to take the couch and give the new mattress they had gotten to Zayn, who asked him possibly a million times if he was sure before eventually conceding. 

The couch was tough and probably a lot less comfortable than the mattress but Harry found himself not caring in the slightest. He felt comfortingly light and content as he fell asleep to the murmurs of the other boys, knowing that they would still be there in the morning. 

~

Louis woke up during the night and although he didn’t know the time he would’ve bet quite a lot that it was approximately the same time as he had been woken by Harry crying the previous two nights. But this time he woke up of his own accord, the little routine already becoming ingrained in him. 

Louis kept his eyes closed and made a futile effort to force himself back to sleep. He was doing a pretty magnificent job of squeezing his eyes closed to no effect when he heard Harry move above him. When he opened his eyes, Harry was looking down at him. 

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered. 

“Yeah.” Louis replied, giving him a small, sympathetic smile. “Kind of gotten into the routine now.” 

“Sorry about that.”

Harry looked embarrassed until Louis gave him a proper, reassuring smile.

“’s not your fault.” 

Harry looked at him for a few seconds, thinking over what he was going to say and whether he was actually going to say it. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked eventually, looking unsure. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, if you want to?” Louis answered after a while of stumbling over a million answers in his head and eventually deciding to say practically all of them.

Harry’s smile was impressively huge considering the time of night and Louis felt himself retuning it despite not yet being entirely aware of most of his limbs. 

Harry swung his legs down off the couch and led the way to the door, surprisingly light on his feet despite his lanky and ungainly looking frame. He threw on his coat and passed Louis the coat belonging to Zayn that he knew was of much higher quality than any of theirs. 

The mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes as he looked at him before they snuck out the door had Louis cursing every god he could think of because he found himself liking this boy more with every passing second. 

They practically jumped down the single flight of stairs, sprinting out of the building and not stopping until they were around the corner from their street and bent over laughing, trying to get their breath back. Louis didn’t strictly see why they had to run but Harry seemed to enjoy it more that way and Louis found himself agreeing. 

“So where are we going?” Louis asked when he got his breath back. 

“It’s a secret.” Harry smiled, eyes glinting. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

Harry laughed and began to walk, Louis falling into step beside him.

The streets were completely dark apart from a few odd lamps here and there and Louis felt as though he was walking blind. Harry led him effortlessly through the dark and eventually Louis gave up on trying to recognise his surroundings and let Harry lead the way. They walked in companionable silence, Harry tilting his head every few minutes to smile down at Louis. 

There was a feeling that Louis didn’t recognise bubbling just underneath his skin as they walked. It made him feel more awake, now, at an hour of the morning he rarely ever saw, than he usually did during the day. It was excitement and trepidation and the feeling of being smothered by the darkness and something else completely unidentifiable that twisted in his stomach every time he looked at the boy beside him. 

They walked for a long time before Louis began to realise where they were heading and his stomach dropped as he recognised the buildings around him. They were in the same place Louis had been only two days before and the smell of burning wood still hung in the air. Louis’ hands began to get slightly clammy as they continued straight towards the part of the city that had been destroyed by the fire. 

Relief flooded through him as Harry took a sharp left turn just as they were about to turn onto the street that had once been his home. Harry looked at him when he heard his small sigh of relief and his smile was slightly less loose and carefree as it had been earlier on, his eyes vaguely beginning to cloud over. Louis smiled back at him and internally celebrated when Harry’s eyes cleared and the smile turned back to genuine and relaxed. 

They walked for a while longer until Harry abruptly stopped in front of a large, impressive stone building surrounded on all side by a high black fence. Louis read the plaque on the front gate in the dim light emitted by a near-by street lamp.

_Wilson’s School for Boys_

_est. 1853_

 

“You brought me to your school?” 

Harry grinned down at him, eyes shining and face illuminated in the glow of the streetlamp. 

“First of all, it is no longer my school. And yeah, I used to come here when I couldn’t sleep. You know, before.” He said, looking down at his hands and fidgeting in a way that could only be endearing. 

Louis watched the way he wrung his hands together and suddenly got the feeling that Harry was showing him something very private by bringing him here. The thought made his throat constrict inexplicably as he tried to think of something to say. 

“How do you get in?” he asked eventually. 

Harry grinned at him again and beckoned for Louis to follow as he made his way around the side of the railing, searching for a weak spot almost blindly in the dark, enclosed space. He found it in an impressively short amount of time, hopping through the space left by a missing railing and reaching a hand back through the gap to help Louis. 

Louis took the extended hand and mostly stumbled through the gap, laughing as he fell on Harry who held him up and tried to shush him through his own laughter. 

Louis’ eyes began to adjust to the darkness as Harry led him around to the back of the building. He hadn’t let go of his hand and Louis felt his entire mind focus in on the contact, waiting for it to be withdrawn. 

Harry held his hand until they reached the silhouetted shape of a winding metal staircase at the back of the building. It was steep and frankly terrifying looking and Louis swallowed his fear as Harry hopped onto the first step, extending his hand back down to Louis, who was embarrassingly grateful for it, already missing the warmth of it in his own. 

Harry led him up the winding stairs without letting go of his hand.

“I’m never going back down those.” Louis said when they eventually reached the roof. 

Harry laughed and led him over to the edge, moving their hands so that their fingers were interlocked. 

They stood in silence and looked over the surrounding streets. Louis saw Harry’s jaw clench in his peripheral vision as his eyes were drawn to the absence where his home should have been standing. Louis squeezed his hand slightly and got a grateful smile in return. 

“It’s beautiful up here.” Louis said quietly, his tone reverent. 

“I used to be able to see my whole world from here.” There was a waver in Harry’s voice as he said it and when Louis turned to look at him the intense, angry look from the night before had re-entered his eyes. Louis studied his face for a few moments before he spoke. 

“It’s okay to be angry, you know.” He said, still studying Harry’s face to gauge his reaction. 

“I know” Harry replied, some of the anger ebbing away as he turned to look back over the city.

They spent a few more moments of comfortable silence before Louis began to feel Harry’s gaze on him.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked, holding up their joined hands when Louis turned to look at him. 

Louis nodded, a small smile on his lips as he looked at their hands. Harry smiled back at him and abruptly sat down, dragging Louis with him. They sat with their backs to the wall on the edge of the roof and Louis suspected that Harry had had enough of the view that would never be the same to him again.

Harry crossed his legs and rested their hands on top of his knee, staring down at them and moving them around like he was attempting to study them. 

“I like your hands.” He said, eyebrows still furrowed as he stared. 

Louis laughed at the unexpected statement and marvelled that Harry could be so blatant and simple in his words.

“Thank you.” Louis replied, smiling. “I like your hands too.”

Harry beamed at him, his teeth and eyes shining in the darkness and Louis thought that he had probably never met someone before that went with whatever they were feeling quite the way Harry did. 

Harry looked at him in a split second of indecision before leaning his head onto Louis’ shoulder. Louis smiled fondly into the other boy’s curly hair and ran his thumb over the knuckles of the hand he was holding. Harry sighed and Louis felt him smile into his shoulder. 

“Tell me a story?” 

Louis was momentarily struck dumb by the question as only one story came to mind and he felt the extremely rare urge to tell it. The silence dragged on and when Harry tilted his head to look at him, Louis already knew what he was going to say.

“Okay.” Louis said, not looking at Harry as he once again rested his head on his shoulder. “I’ll tell you a story. But it’s not a very happy one.”

Harry made a noise of ascent, nodding against his shoulder and Louis smiled somewhat sadly as curls brushed his neck. 

“It’s my story. The rest of it.” Louis said, putting obvious effort into keeping his voice from wavering. He took a deep, steadying breath and told the story for the first time.

“I had sisters. Three of them, all younger than me. They oldest was five when my mother died, the twins were three. My mother put every last ounce of her life into taking care of them and when she was gone, I did. They were so beautiful. We slept rough for years after my mother died, I stole what I could and made whatever was to be made from selling newspapers until one day it wasn’t enough. The eldest got sick and I had no way of helping her, we didn’t even have a roof over our heads.” Louis began, gritting hid teeth to keep the emotion from his voice.

“So I started pick pocketing and eventually I had enough for rent on a place. It was damp and cold and nowhere near good enough but I couldn’t watch her fade away on the street. After that it was my mother all over again. She got weaker and weaker until there was nothing else to be done. She died in my arms and it was almost a relief to see the pain finally leave her. She was 9 years old. The twins didn’t speak for weeks, they just clung to me. We brought her body out to the forest and buried it underneath an oak tree and I haven’t been back since.  
I was so scared about what would happen to the twins. I was scared all the time, then. Scared when I woke up in the morning, scared whenever I left them on their own and so, so scared whenever I looked at their faces which were always just too fucking thin. I was scared every day until my fears were realised.   
It was so cold when I came home and they were gone. There was snow on the ground and I had told them to stay right there but they were wild by then, wild before they even turned four years old. I couldn’t find them anywhere. I looked non-stop for days. I don’t even remember sleeping. I just walked through the city and searched everywhere. It was like they’d disappeared into thin air and I thought I was going to go mad from it.  
It took me almost a week to figure out what had happened. I was asleep on the side of the street when a carriage pulled up and hands started grabbing at me so I ran and I was about two blocks away before it hit me that that’s where they must be. The children’s Home. I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry in my life as I was then. But I knew I couldn’t get them because if I tried I would just be taken as well.” His voice had sped up as he told the final part of the story and he took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to ground himself.

“Leaving them there was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

His voice finally broke as he said the last words and tears obscured his vision. Beside him, he could feel that Harry had moved his head off his shoulder and was staring at him but he didn’t turn. 

The story had been surprisingly easy to tell, he realised. He had thought that it would bring it all back too harshly for him to ever consider talking about it, but it felt almost a relief to tell it. And it had hurt but he had been thinking about them every day for years and it didn’t feel like rubbing salt in his wounds, it was just letting someone else finally see them. 

Louis wiped his eyes and finally turned his head to look at the boy beside him. Harry was gaping at him, moving his mouth as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Louis gave him a small, watery smile. Harry widened his eyes slightly and let out a short breath, staring hard at Louis.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered hoarsely. 

Louis wiped at his eyes again and gave him another sad smile. 

“It’s okay.” Louis said. “It was a long time ago.” He tightened his grip around Harry’s hand and tried for a more genuine smile. 

Harry’s eyes flickered back down to their hands. He brought them slowly up to his mouth and placed a careful kiss onto Louis’ knuckles. Louis huffed a small, quiet laugh. 

“Do you only like me for my hands?” he asked, amused. 

When Harry looked back at him his eyes were dark and serious. Louis held his breath as Harry gave him a long, searching look. They stared at each other for a while until Harry unclasped their hands and brought his up to hover just beside Louis’ cheek, as if he was unsure if he could actually touch him. Louis smiled at him, nodding slightly until Harry was gently cupping his jaw. 

Louis exhaled and forced himself to hold Harry’s gaze. He leaned into the warmth of the hand and Harry’s eyes softened as he swept a thumb across the top of Louis’ cheekbone. 

Louis’ breathing stuttered as Harry’s gaze flicked to his lips and almost instantly back up to his eyes. He looked at Louis uncertainly until Louis brought his tongue out unconsciously to wet his lips. 

Harry eye’s darkened as he used his hand to tilt Louis’ head slightly, watching as the other boy’s eyes fluttered closed. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Louis’. 

Harry’s lips were soft and confident but not insistent and Louis found himself missing them when he pulled away. Louis kept his eyes closed for a while, enjoying the ghost of the tingling sensation. When he opened them, Harry’s eyes were roaming over his face as though he was trying to memorise it. He dragged his gaze painfully slowly along the line of Louis’ jaw and back up to his eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Harry breathed, a hushed awe in his voice. He still hadn’t moved his hand and Louis turned his head slowly to press a soft kiss to his palm in response.  
Louis brought his hand up to cover Harry’s, entwining them and bringing them down to rest on his leg. He looked at them for a moment before turning his head and pressing a long kiss to Harry’s lips. Louis smiled at him when he pulled back and leaned into his side, resting his head on his shoulder. 

They sat in silence and watched the morning sun rise over the city.


End file.
